Covet Thy Lover
by Danyu
Summary: Haru/Rin. Hatsuharu's jealousy was to be expected. ONESHOT.


**Covet Thy Lover**

By Dan'yu

Haru could remember, not as vaguely as he wished, when his mind and body had been a mess of pubescent hormones and feelings, when he'd first started noticing Rin as more than just Rin-chan- friend, confident, someone he loved deeply and devotionally- one whose childhood face and form in his mind was quickly fading to be replaced by an undeniably beautiful young woman.

He'd watched her enter high school, and he remembered the first time he'd even conceived the notion of her and those damned uniforms. She'd asked him over at the end of the first day of the new school year, wanting to hang out and hear all about day.

He had gone to her place, been torn between amusement and concern as he found the family unexpectedly at home, Rin and Kagura bickering at the front door. Scowling fiercely, Rin grabbed her jacket and stormed off in a huff, grabbing his arm and dragging him down the path as he send an apologetic wave to the protesting Kagura.

She'd stopped in the middle of the path once they were out of sight of the inner compound, grasping his shoulder for balance as she struggled into her jacket, all the time murmuring irritably under her breath. He could not help himself as his mouth curved into a fond sort of silly half-grin, his eyes slowly sweeping over her form when a sudden, inexplicable revelation that froze his mind and had the smile slipping from his face.

It wasn't as if he had never seen her show a little skin; in fact, Rin was notorious since her early pubescent years for dressing rather provocatively. The scant clothing, the leathers and the revealing skin, all of it served to remind everyone of what she really was. It was a message to taunt all of male kind, to show them all that she was and all her body had to offer, and then combine it with the knowledge that they could look but never touch.

For she was forbidden, one of the twelve, far beyond their reach, just a blatant temptation that both teased and spoiled their eyes if they ever dared to look, and then burned with the sharp pain of disappointment, and the absolute wrong of

It was a pure, unattested rebellion against everything her parents had betrayed and destroyed in her childhood. That was where the difference lay in her dressing, between her own clothing- a shield he saw through and therefore did not allow himself overt male appreciation toward her.

But still, even to his thirteen-year-old mind, she was a dark and alluring beauty, bewitching…simultaneously strong and delicate, raising both his awe and his protective instincts. Still, in the school uniform the junior high had issued her, the soft swell of her breasts, unexpected curves, the slender shape of her legs had his breath hitching and his mind unable to form a single coherent whisper of a thought.

Though he'd come to find he wasn't the only one.

And he didn't like that fact in the slightest.

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Jealousy was never something suited to Hatsuharu, but it was inevitable all the same. Rin knew this better than anyone.

With her Sohma heritage, combined with the blood of a Jyuunishi running through her, there had never been any question of her attractiveness. She was beautiful to the human eye, and she knew it, but that was it, just that very simple fact of knowledge. She felt no vanity or satisfaction from that fact, nor did she feel modesty or denial. The fact that she was physically appealing was something that simply was, and she did not question it.

Instead, she resented it, manipulated her looks, saw them more as either a hindrance or just another tool in the long - life-long - games they played in their world as Jyuunishi and god-bound, a game of survival. So, she dressed to accent her beauty, her physical attributes.

It was always a strange fact that she dressed the way she did, teasing and taunting, daring any male to give her more than just a discreet passing glance, when in truth, she hated the lewd, dirty stares, and the whispers that spread among the mothers and old aunts of her "inappropriate" dress and behavior. She hated the idea of anyone daring to touch, even as she tempted them to do the same.

It was shoving the fact in the face of her god that she was lusted after and wanted by males, knowing that she drew even the eyes of the cursed males to look at her instead of Akito. It was open defiance- rebellion- in its crudest and simplest form.

The way she dressed, the way she carried herself, her blatant, obvious rebellion, eventually it all became for Haru's benefit. He who could not look at her with the intimacy of the lover he was in the public eye could still see her just as easily as any other man, and instead of the stares of others she received, it was the quiet appreciation in his eyes as they passed casually in the Honke that she treasured, to watch the subtle kindle of desire awaken in him sent a shiver down her spine.

For his eyes only, to feel wanted, to feel loved, to know that she was his and his only, at the end of the day, to know that it was his embrace she surrendered to, his hands she allowed and his touch she welcomed.

Haru was the one.

The only one.

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Years later, it wasn't as if his jealousy was something he could hide.

"So what do you think?"

Haru considered the question from his lounging position against his chair, hand resting against his chin in deliberation as he studied her, eyes trailing over every inch that she displayed, from the bottoms of her boots to the slim legs accented by the short skirt, all the way up to her impatient expression and the top of her dark head of hair. Her brow furrowed with annoyance, she glanced at him expectantly. "Well?"

"Is it just me…or is the skirt shorter?"

It took all his will-power to squander Neanderthal instinct not to let her out the door in something so provocative on her body, no where near the eyes of other men. He clenched his fist and sighed, watching as Rin cocked an eyebrow in his direction.

He cast her a half-cocked grin, his eyes darkening in a way that should have prophesized his intentions had she not been so preoccupied, irritably fiddling with the hems of the skirt.

She tossed back her long hair, leveling a dark glare in his direction. "If you're going to make fun, I'm going to change. You were the one who asked me to model it for you in the first place. It's not my fault the school changed this stupid thing."

Haru arched an eyebrow as he eyed the uniform. "The changes aren't so bad, I think."

She blushed, made a face, and turned away from him with an audible 'humph'. As she moved to storm passed him, he made a grab for her arms and pulled her back toward him, effectively changing her momentum as she landed sprawled across his lap. He locked his arms and legs around her, trapping her in, and his mouth was suddenly at work, dropping a trail of soft kisses along her neck.

"H-Haru…"

"I never said I didn't like it," he rumbled darkly, the dropped octave to his voice sending a pleasant chill down her spine, just as effectively as his continued ministrations as teeth and tongue teasingly grazed over her skin, hitting a particularly sensitive spot just below her collarbone that caused her to gasp and tremble against him. "Gods, Haru! Where'd this come from?"

She felt more than saw his lips curl into a smirk against her skin, his hands slipping beneath the hem of her skirt, caressing silken skin. He swallowed her startled moan in a sudden kiss.

"Who knows? Maybe it's the skirt."

She twisted in his lap, entwining her arms around his neck as she pressed into him, the sudden sensation of her hips against his tearing a strangled groan from deep in his throat.

"Hentai."

He grinned, sliding his hands upward as she made quick work of his shirt buttons, reaching for the buckle to his belt. "Yeah, but you love me that way."

"No denying that."

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Later, he slipped the blanket previously thrown over the back of the armchair around her the moment he felt her shivering in the aftermath, enveloping her into his arms as she curled up against him.

She brushed her hand against the heated skin exposed by his open shirt, resting her head against his chest as he slowly, languorously combed his fingers through her hair, Rin quietly listening to the rampant sound of his thundering heart, yet to still with their exertion.

His voice, deep with post-juvenescence, reverberated against her ear as he spoke. "So I've been thinking about you…"

She smiled lightly, leaning her head back to look up at him with a teasing light in her eyes. "Already? A cold shower might be in order."

His eyes warming despite himself, he tried to make a face but ended up smiling all the same, her soft laughter shaking her form as she grinned and leaned up on her knees to peck his cheek. He caught her waist, holding her steadfast as she encircled her arms around his neck for some semblance of balance, watching his eyes shift and darken as they studied her carefully.

Calloused fingers brushing the hair out of her eyes, weathered lips pressing a chaste kiss to her temple. "You are so beautiful," he whispered throatily, watching her nose crinkle slightly and her face hid in the crook of his neck.

"Don't say things like that."

"I know," he lifted his eyes to stare at the ceiling above him, "I know."

No matter the warmth, the truths, the compliments and the safety of touches that came with his love, there were some things about Rin's childhood he could never manage to overshadow. It still hurt that no matter the things he could say, no amount of sincerity and coaxing could make her believe it.

That she was beautiful, that she was worthwhile…it had taken so long for her just to accept that he truly, deeply loved her, without regret or disgust or pretend. That it was just the way he felt for her, the way he cared for her.

His heart was hers, and it was held in such small, delicate hands….supported by the trembling fingers of a frightened little girl.

"But I'm serious, you know. You are gorgeous, Rin. I might just have to keep you here."

She arched an eyebrow, tilting her head up to look at him, "Oh? Planning to hide me away in the closet?"

"Yep. Stash you away so I'm the only one that can see you."

Rin shifted against him, raising a hand to comb gently through the fine hair at his nape, "Tell me what this is really about."

"I can't stand the thought of their eyes on you."

"Their eyes I can handle. I thought you could to," she tilted up his chin, thumb stroking the clamped tension of his jaw-line, "I know you. That's not it."

"Their hands I can break," choosing to ignore her slight wince at the venom in his voice hinting toward the line between black and white he constantly straddled, "Their eyes…I can't look at you the way they can."

"I hope you won't," she replied wryly, a disgusted shiver crawling down her spine at the memory of the lewd stares she received on a daily basis.

"That's not what I meant."

His voice was rougher with a deeper gruff indicating his mounting frustration, and she sighed as she watched his eyes darken, stroking a hand against his furrowed brow, "I'm sorry. Can't seem to do anything but rile you tonight."

"Why?" A flicker of concern, "School?"

A shake of her head and then an inquisitive, "Home? Akito?"

A blank quiet at the last selection and then a vehement shake of her head, "Forget it. It's not important. But listen, Haru."

"Hai."

"I get it. You think it doesn't hurt to see being able to touch others so easily? Yuki, Kisa? Even Akito can touch you more openly than I can."

He closed his eyes, resting back against the chair and Rin sighed as she nestled back against him, "We never solve anything with this, do we?"

"No," he mumbled, "We don't."

Haru nuzzled against her neck, biting lightly into the tender skin, earning a shiver from her. As he spoke, he breathed lightly against the sensitive spot, just a brush of air that spiked her sensuality, "I just want you to be mine. Is that too much?"

Rin could never find the heart to reply, that in their world, possession went far beyond their control.

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Haru's jealousy was to be expected, as he stood by and watched the stares of other Sohma males, their eyes dirty and lusting as they cast over her, entertaining the lowest of thoughts they could never make reality.

When he could do nothing against it without raising suspicion; but later in the dark quiet of their stolen embraces, he could make his knowledge real: express to her his jealousy, his want, his lusts and his tempers.

He was possessive, but she did not mind, for she loved the way his jealousy tightened his arms around her and reaffirmed his kisses, the way they both knew that despite any others that interfered in their lives outside each other, it was to each other that they would always return and always belong.

Always.


End file.
